The Marlins will float through Denver like a ghost ship that somehow found a favorable wind tonight.

At least we're not paying $1,200 a seat to watch this scoreless tie in an empty stadium back home.

The Rockies' thin air might as well be thin hope for us, and we're down a run in the second inning of what'll probably be a forgettable August game in front of seventeen people.

We're down one in the third inning at altitude against a team that can't hit, which means we're either about to witness a miraculous comeback or get traded to the Dodgers before the final out, but either way I'm showing up tomorrow because hope is a Marlins fan's only renewable resource.

The Marlins flew into the Mile High to watch us score 8 runs and lose 9-8 on a bases-loaded walk in the ninth.

The Marlins brought a knife to a Coors Field gunfight, which means we'll probably lose 8-7 in extra innings anyway.

The Rockies are up one in the second at Coors where the ball flies like it's got a jet engine and the Marlins' pitching is about to get absolutely shredded, so yeah, I like our chances unless our guy completely melts down, which—let's be honest—is always possible at this altitude.

Three innings in and I'm already planning which Marlins pitcher's ERA I'll use to justify this W when we're up 8-2 in the fifth.